One of my good friends - she'll remain nameless though I shouldn't encourage protecting the guilty - berated me last night about my post-Breakup "behavior." So I'm a smart ass, big deal. I'm not going to hide how I feel (which is finally moving from "numb and a little mad" to "full on pissed off" with "fucking depressed" visible over the hill). If I have something snarky and a little (or more than a little) mean to say, I'm damn well going to say it. My heart is broken, and I'm supposed to worry about Annie's (or anyone else's) feelings? But she has decided that if I can't play nice I can't play with them at all. How's that for a support system?
The hardest part is that the rest of life doesn't slow down or, God forbid, stop just because my relationship is crashing to pieces around me. Still have to pay the rent, still have to do the dishes, still have to work. Still, still, still. Yay.
So, I'm having a rough day. I'm pissed off. I'm depressed. Good thing I refilled my Zoloft last weekend! Leave me some comment love. Then invite me over for non-date movies and tequila. Then come to my house and help me pack.